Undisclosed
by Eye.G
Summary: He was called a genius child, before everything got swallowed into darkness. For Naruto, losing his family and his sight was a life shattering experience. Giving up on drawing however, was the only thing he couldn't resolve himself to do. SasuNaruSasu.
1. Prologue

**Undisclosed**

**Summary : **He was called a genius child, before everything got swallowed into darkness. For Naruto, losing his family and his sight was a life shattering experience. Giving up on drawing however, was the only thing he couldn't resolve himself to do.

**Pairing : **SasuNaru NaruSasu.

**Warning **: This story, as for the first chapters, will be Shonenai (featuring boys in a relationship) and eventually Yaoi (explicit sexual content). The rating will change accordingly.

For the sake of this fic, the characters – and mostly Naruto – will appear a bit OC at first. I am very attached to the original personalities so you should find the essence of their characters as the fiction unfolds.

I am not a native speaker so please don't hesitate to tell me whenever you come across grammar inaccuracies or typos. If someone enjoys this story enough to Beta read it, please send me an MP !

**Disclaimer : **I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**Prologue**

_The gentle coarseness of the paper. The soft granularity of the charcoal. The glassy, oily feeling of the pencils roughly used. The dusty sensation of feather like strokes. The heavy wetness and light smell of the gouache. The strong scent of the oil paint. The coldness of water color. This was everything. Everything in the world he needed. Everything in the world he had left. _

Naruto could feel the warm rays of the sun caressing his bare skin as he walked, seamlessly aimless, in a stunning Japanese-styled garden. The soft grass was whispering quiet murmurs as he wandered amongst the blossoming cherry trees, burgundy maples, green and pink-leaved weeping willow. The wind was singing a mesmerizing harmony with the surface of the pond's water.

_"The bridge is here, just beside this big maple. You will have to cross it to get from the dorms to the main building." _

Naruto took a step forward and stroke the gnarly trunk with a gentle gesture before drifting to the warm wood pole of the bridge.

_" Do you think you'll manage to get here on your own?" _

_The young man had turned around and nodded quietly._

_"Will you need another tour of the Academy? There are about fifty classrooms and just as many ateliers you need to remember to get around the school perfectly…"_

_"No. I remember." _

_"All your future professors are aware of your condition, so don't hesitate to go and talk to them if you have trouble with anything."_

_"Thank you Baa-chan." He said in a whisper. But, don't worry, I'll be fine."_

Naruto crossed the bridge and silently drifted from the path that was neatly defined with wide, polished grayish stones. His footsteps were alive; recording everything they stomped on, everyplace they walked in. A cool breeze blew his long bangs across his face. He looked at the heat of the sun. Glanced at the flowery scent of the cherry trees. Stared at the freshness of the shadows spread on the ground. Contemplated the disturbed air wherever a tree, or building, stood.

He combed his bangs back on his forehead, so that they'd fully cover the upper half of his face. For a few seconds, he took in the silence of this living nature, knowing that the day after would bring the clamor of hundreds of excited new students.

He breathed in deeply and took a sketchbook and a 2B pencil from his bag. He sat against the trunk of an old weeping willow. Embraced in its shadow, he listened to the chant of the pond's water that was flowing beside him, as the cascading leaves were hiding him entirely. Just like the blond strands were concealing him from the rest of the world. Just like he concealed the rest of the world behind them.

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I hope you enjoyed this (rather short) introduction to the story. I have been stuck with this idea for a while, so please, tell me what you think !


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary : **He was called a genius child, before everything got swallowed into darkness. For Naruto, losing his family and his sight was a life shattering experience. Giving up on drawing however, was the only thing he couldn't resolve himself to do.

**Pairing : **SasuNaru NaruSasu.

**Warning **: This story, as for the first chapters, will be Shonenai (featuring boys in a relationship) and eventually Yaoi (explicit sexual content). The rating will change accordingly.

For the sake of this fic, the characters – and mostly Naruto – will appear a bit OC at first. I am very attached to the original personalities so you should find the essence of their characters as the fiction unfolds.

I am not a native speaker so please don't hesitate to tell me whenever you come across grammar inaccuracies or typos. If someone enjoys this story enough to Beta read it, please send me an MP !

**Author Note : **Thank you very much to those who followed, favorite-d and reviewed the Prologue, even though it was pretty short. Special thanks to _Ennu_, feel free to leave me a mail adress so that I could answer you!

**Disclaimer : **I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Everything was just like a daily routine. Brand new blank pads of different kinds of papers were neatly arranged in his portfolio. In his black-cloth-bag specially designed by the Academy; gouaches, oils, charcoal, graphite pencils, color pencils, soft pastels, oil pastels, and other sketching sticks, brushes and pencils had a designed place where they fitted perfectly. His uniform, perfectly ironed, was hugging his figure like a second skin. Immaculate white shirt embroidered with the stylish escutcheon of the school, silver-framed black blazer with similar grapheme on the chest, black pants and shining black shoes.

Every single gesture was carried on with the calm and confidence of habitude. And yet, one could see the shadow of a sparkle in the dark wells of Uchiha Sasuke's eyes. He swiftly and handily tied his silver necktie and cast a last glance to the one piece of paper that was still laid on his desk. He heaved a small sigh and crumpled it before throwing it in the trashcan.

A discreet knock echoed from behind the door. Sasuke immediately tensed. Grinded his teeth. _Hoped. _He settled his bag by his left side, grabbed his portfolio, his car keys, and put up his most impassive mask. He reached for the knob and opened the door in a swift, cold gesture.

He froze on the doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" He asked with a mixture of emotions he did not really know how to deal with. A mix of happiness and irritation.

"Our parents received an invitation for your entrance ceremony." A low-pitched, soothing voice answered. "And I happened to come across it."

Sasuke's lips crooked up into a smirk, his eyes glimmering eerily. His hopes vanished.

" Did they even _open _it? Or did you find it with the trash?"

Itachi's irises darkened with sadness.

"Someday they will understand."

"I don't give a fuck." The tone was harsh, aggressive.

"I'll give you a ride."

"Don't bother." Why throwing the blame on Itachi? Why always have him bear with his fucked-up circumstances?

So he ended up following his brother out of the immaculate, silent and already empty penthouse.

He settled his portfolio in the trunk of the car and sat on the passenger seat of the shiny, dark, brand new Audi. Sasuke remained quiet for as long as the route lasted, his chin settled in his right palm, his eyes lost in the blurred scenery.

They had left the outer suburbs of New York. The skyscrapers were more scattered, the empty spaces and residential houses more numerous.

Finally, Itachi parked the car in the private lot of the Academy. Barely gracing him with a glance, the raven-haired boy got out of the vehicle. He retrieved his portfolio and arranged it under his arm before taking a look at his surroundings.

At 7am, only a few cars were already occupying the parking lot. The crowd in front of the huge, strangely out of place, wooden gates of the Academy, was still fairly scarce. Sasuke immediately caught sight of other dark and silver uniforms and portfolios of various shape and colors… in the merry company of friends and family. He let out a shaking breath. Put on his most expressionless face.

Suddenly, as the clock that was peeking out of the high brick walls stroke the seventh hour of the morning, the gigantic gates opened, silencing the conversations, freezing every movement. When the hinged sections stopped on their track, a murmur raised, and the small crowd started to make its way past the school's gates. Sasuke also felt the irresistible, magnetic desire to follow their lead. It was a strange feeling. One he was not sure he enjoyed or not.

"Sasuke." Even Itachi's voice felt distant. He turned around, forcing himself to break out of the hypnosis, keeping his emotions at bay. In his brother's hand was a rectangular box, wrapped in a plain burgundy paper. His eyes widened slightly as Itachi fondly placed his other hand of the top of his head before proudly saying:

"Congratulation on being valedictorian of Konoha Academy of Beaux-Arts' Entrance Exam."

Bewildered, and strangely unwilling to part from the reassuring warmth of Itachi's palm, Sasuke nevertheless reached for the box and tore the paper open neatly. His lips parted open in awe as his eyes laid on the golden Japanese Kanjis, which were engraved on the wooden top. He slid it open and tentatively grazed its content with the tip of his fingers.

"How did you get it? I thought there were only four sets of them in circulation? And the last time I checked, they were all in private collections in Japan…"

Itachi smirked mischievously.

"Let's say I've got some really good connections."

"Yeah right..." Sasuke mumbled. It was all he could do to express how happy he was. All he was ever able to do.

"Make sure you draw something nice with those." Itachi simply countered with a low chuckle, before letting go of Sasuke. "Now, should we go? You don't want to be late for your valedictorian speech now, do you?"

He didn't answer, but instead, proceeded to walk towards the gates he had been dreaming to cross for as long as he could remember. Towards the mysterious and legendary grounds of the most prestigious Academy of Art of the country.

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Please share your thoughts, it really helps me to improve my writing (plus, it keeps me motivated ^.^) ! I will try my best to update this story weekly.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary : **He was called a genius child, before everything got swallowed into darkness. For Naruto, losing his family and his sight was a life shattering experience. Giving up on drawing however, was the only thing he couldn't resolve himself to do.

**Pairing : **SasuNaru NaruSasu.

**Warning **: This story, as for the first chapters, will be Shonenai (featuring boys in a relationship) and eventually Yaoi (explicit sexual content). The rating will change accordingly.

For the sake of this fic, the characters – and mostly Naruto – will appear a bit OC at first. I am very attached to the original personalities so you should find the essence of their characters as the fiction unfolds.

I am not a native speaker so please don't hesitate to tell me whenever you come across grammar inaccuracies or typos. If someone enjoys this story enough to Beta read it, please send me an PM !

**Disclaimer : **I don't own Naruto.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

The Konoha Academy of Beaux-Arts was established in the close vicinity of New York over a century ago by a rich Japanese Art aficionado. Hashirama Senju, a successful software designer established in New Jersey, had thrown half of his fortune into the creation of this top-notched Art University. The place stood as a subtle mix of architectural and educational traditions from both Japan and the United States. Unlike every other institute in the country, the school term started in spring; in order to fit with the Japanese custom and conveniently let a few months to the newly graduated high school students to prepare for the very selective entrance exam. The aspiring artists had to go through the painful experience of a four-hour-long test on general art and art history knowledge. No matter what their individual specialty was, a precise familiarity in any Art field – from crafting to digital and 3D art conception – was demanded. Then, the students were required to present a single work of art they supposedly spent the previous months to elaborate.

Only a handful of honor students were selected and granted the entrance to the renowned university and its subtly well-assorted Japanese gardens and Victorian buildings. They would undergo an extremely rigorous program and the students who successfully went through the five years without either failing or giving up, graduated with solid career perspectives. As digital designers, animation or video games creators, contracted or independent artists. As a matter of fact, a number of students had their own sponsors or even art galleries even before they graduated.

Konoha Academy of Beaux-Arts was probably the only institution to unsure its students a bright future in the field of art, which was what Sasuke had been aiming for ever since he had been old enough to hold a pen.

He finally sat next to Itachi at one of the front seats of the auditorium in order to get on the stage as fast as possible when he would be expected to deliver his speech. He was feeling surprisingly calm and detached.

The Chairman, a tall, busty woman with very light blond hair warmly welcomed the new promotion of students. A number of teachers and alumni replaced her on the stage to deliver short, yet enthusiastic speeches.

"Let us now proceed to this year valedictorian speech." A round of applauds echoed in the auditorium.

"It's been a tradition since the establishment of this school, that the piece realized by the valedictorian of each promotion would be presented during the entrance ceremony, then exposed in the West Wing of the Academy."

The Chairman paused.

"From New York, New Jersey, 18 years old, Uchiha Sasuke."

Whispers started to fill the auditorium. Stares he was more than used to. He could feel Itachi's warm, proud smirk, burning holes in those envious ogles.

He stood in front of the podium; seemingly uncaring about the round of applause and the appreciative looks a group of female alumni were sending him.

He spoke in a deep baritone voice the words he had been learning diligently for this day. The speech was just the bare minimum that was being expected from him. He didn't care to make an impression with his words.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Uchiha. Would you now please describe shortly the piece you realized for the entrance examination."

And as the huge screen used for the presentations during the ceremony suddenly went black, Sasuke nodded curtly.

"I named this oil painting after a Japanese Shinto Goddess. _The Rampage of Amateratsu_."

And the screen abruptly lit up. Gasps echoed strongly inside the auditorium. But Sasuke could only look at his older brother who was contemplating his painting with unhidden awe.

The roaring volcano was sending tongues of fire towards the dark skies. Collapsing rocks were rolling down the snow and lava covered flanks of the mountain. Gazes and fumes were whirling and twirling in a purple storm towards the faintest breaking dawn as the goddess, all wind and fire and violet despair, was crying blazing tears on the small village lying in the valley. On the foreground, burning houses and running men and women. And the pure striking tears, rolling down the cheek of an abandoned child.

After minutes of staring and musing, the Chairman and the teachers finally broke the silence with enthusiastic cheers. Sasuke bowed his head slightly and walked back to his seat.

He raised an eyebrow at Itachi's nod of appreciation and sat down. The Chairman took the vacant space by the podium and declaimed:

"Thank you very much Mr. Uchiha. Now, this year, our school was blessed with a rare occurrence. After counting over the points of both the writing test and the piece presentation, two students appeared to have scored the total of 200 points out of 200. Now please, let us welcome the second valedictorian of this year 20**-20**. From Prairie City, Oregon, 17 years old, Uzumaki Naruto.

Astonished and somewhat reluctant clapping echoed through the auditorium. Sasuke was frowning in obvious displeasure, grudgingly looking around to catch a glimpse of the kid who had just basically ruined what this whole damn ceremony was supposed to mean for him.

He finally saw him walking up the right alley of the main bloc of seats. As he was climbing the couple of stairs to the stage, he almost tripped, earning a wave of entertained laughter.

As the top of the podium was approximately reaching the crook of his armpit, Sasuke made the safe guess that the teenager had to be just as tall as he was. A mess of long blond strands of hair was eating the upper half of his face, shadowing his very eyes and trembling ever so slightly when the kid opened his mouth to start talking, sending small gushes of breathed air into the mingled, dirty bangs.

"I am Uzumaki Naruto." He started with a dull, low-pitched voice. "Thank you very much for having me here." And without further ado he carried on:

"This is an ink wash painting. I called it _Blue._" And just like that the young man was off the stage. Clearly, nobody bothered to keep track of his movements as he quietly exited the auditorium. Sasuke was no exception. His mind had gone empty. Empty of anything but the stunning piece of art, which was being displayed on the screen.

_Blue._ Sasuke almost laughed at loud at the profound irony of this title. He had seen a great number of ink wash waiting. But _this_ was miles away from the thousand-year-old legacy of Chinese Masters. It was genre-raping. The paper seemed to have been drenched and colored with India ink. The perspective reminded Sasuke of a deep, dim-lit room; except that no walls had been explicitly painted. A small kid was kneeling in a position of deep sufferance and agony. His ragged clothes were tightly hugging his knees and legs. His nape was tilted backwards, his mouth opened in unfathomable pain as he was holding desperately onto what seemed to be an oval, finely craved mirror. And as the whole painting seemed to be nothing else but shattered pieces of watery glass, two single strokes of blue, which Sasuke knew had been drawn at the very end, were rising shakily from the invisible eyes of the agonizing kid, towards the dark cellar.

There was something terribly off about this painting. No peg to hold onto for whom was climbing. If not for the irrational, nearly out of the world realism with which the kid had been drawn – making him look almost inhuman – everything else, from light to shadow, seemed rushed, muddled. It felt so nerve-wracking, so irritating.

Sasuke hated it.


End file.
